Therapy For The Devil
by family-and-free-will
Summary: Castiel Novak is a renowned therapist who just can't catch a break. His newest patient: Dean Winchester, a notorious killer who claims that his victims were Supernatural creatures.
1. Los AngelMESS

**Rated for language but it will probably go up later. Maybe...**

* * *

**September, 2009**

Castiel pushed his way through a busy crowd, the vast majority of whom paid him no mind. Los Angeles was not known for it's friendly inhabitants and the city streets were no exception. As if to emphasize this fact, a passing car carelessly hit a large pool of water and the resulting splash soaked him right to the bone.

"Shit." He cursed, shaking the excess water out of his trench coat as he walked. Life, it seemed, just kept on coming back to bite him in the ass. It was ironic really. Castiel was considered to be one of the best therapists in the state and yet in many ways he was just as depressed as his patients.

Tells you a lot about the state of this country's healthcare policy actually.

"Good morning, Castiel." A middle aged street beggar greeted him. Uriel spent his life living off the donations that were few and far in between from passing citizens. Despite his underprivileged lifestyle he was one of the happiest people Castiel had ever met.

Which of course made Castiel feel like the biggest douche in the world. Here he was with an extremely high paying job that he _hated, _and yet he couldn't even take the time to appreciate that it kept him financially secure. Poor Uriel spent his days sleeping on the streets and yet he always found a way to smile.

It was despicable.

The Lord knew it was going to take more than a bout of guilt from an overly positive homeless man to get Castiel to change his outlook on life. Typically Cas would compensate for this incompetence by bringing Uriel a bagel from the bakery every morning before work. It was the least he could do.

"Hello, Uriel." Castiel forced himself to smile before pulling a small package out of his coat and handing it over. "Sorry if it's a little wet. I got on the losing side of an insolent driver today."

Uriel laughed deeply as he ate he meal. "I know the feeling."

Castiel flinched once he realized his mistake. _Complaining about your life to a homeless man, real mature. _He thought to himself, ashamed. Such self-deprecating thoughts had become rather common in his mind as of late. Typical.

"Enjoy you're breakfast." Castiel responded gruffly before continuing on his path to the hell hole that was his job. The office building he worked in stood at the heart of the city, a beacon of the developers wealth. They had spared no expense in building the skyscraper that took up a vast majority of downtown L.A.

The Adama Center currently stood as the third tallest building in the world. It often acted as headquarters for many large corporations with a knack for employees with big egos. Like most other things, Castiel hated it with a passion.

"Dr. Novak!" His secretary Becky greeted him at the door. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm doing well-"

"Good for you honey." Becky cut him off before immediately launching into his to-do list for the day. "I need you to sign here, here and here." She bombarded him with paperwork as they boarded the elevator.

"What else?" He asked, holding a pen cap between his teeth as he signed.

"Lucifer called and asked if he could come in early today."

Castiel groaned. "What did you tell him?" Lucifer had been coming to see Castiel every day since he caught a nasty virus a few years back. On the surface he seemed fine, until someone around him sneezed or tried to shake his hand. Germaphobe seemed too mild of a statement to describe the man.

"I told him to go ahead and come in. You're not scheduled to see anyone else until noon." Becky explained, exchanging the newly signed file with another.

"Who's coming at noon?" Castiel asked, trying to ignore the dreaded fact that he had to see Lucifer _early_ today.

"Some guy named Dean Winchester. Normally we wouldn't assign you a new patient on such short notice but his brother seemed rather desperate."

"Dean Winchester." Castiel squinted his eyes, willing himself to remember something. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"I'll let you read over his file during lunch." Becky smirked as the elevator came to a stop, seeming to hint at something. Castiel rolled his eyes as she got off on her floor. "See you later, Becky."

The elevator stuttered and then began moving again. Secretly Castiel was glad to have the lift to himself. The idea of being stuck in a box with someone had never really appealed to him, despite the fact that he had to take it to get to his office every day. Yet another reason why he hated his job.

Castiel tried very hard to keep a clean office. A good majority of his patients had extreme OCD, which had led to some rather unpleasant events in the past. Everything had an order: The books, the chairs, even the little candies in the jar on his desk were organized in perfect sequence.

But it didn't take Castiel long to learn that even the most insignificant thing could set someone off. Like today.

He had only just arrived at his desk when the door to his office burst open, revealing Castiel's least favorite patient.

"Lucy's here!" He announced obnoxiously before spraying down his usual chair with bleach and taking a seat.

Castiel's frown flipped like a switch and he greeted his patient cheerily. "Good to see you, Luce! What's the daily update?" His job required him to be fake as fuck which he normally didn't mind although it could be physically draining sometimes.

"Oh you wouldn't BELIEVE what happened to me today!" Lucifer exclaimed, flipping his hair excitedly. "This vile CREATURE, whom I _refuse_ to acknowledge as a member of the human species, went to the bathroom and then DIDN'T WASH HIS HANDS!"

Castiel's face was a mask of sympathy and concern but inside he was screaming. _Not again.__  
_

"I was in the stall next to him and I saw him walk RIGHT OUT THE FUCKING DOOR!" Lucifer continued he dramatic tale, waving his hands in the air for emphasis. "Walk out like he was the bloody King of Hell-" He snapped his wrist sassily, mimicking a character from his favorite television program.

"The King of Hell? You're referring to Crowley, correct?"

Lucifer was overly fond of a popular show called Supernatural and Castiel had made it his goal to memorize as many references he could to help his patient through therapy.

Lucifer's eyes lit up at the change in subject. "OMG YOU UNDERSTOOD THAT REFERENCE!"

"I'm very pop culture savvy now." Castiel winked, relived to have guessed correctly.

"Welcome to the dark side." Lucifer waggled his eyebrows and grinned widely before continuing on with his story. "Anyways_,_ on with the story: So _obviously_ I was APPALLED by this utter neglect of personal hygiene and my first thought was to report him to the authorities."

"Luce, we talked about this." Castiel's bright eyes peeked over the bridge of his glasses. "You can't just call the police of someone because they sneezed on you or neglected to wash their hands." He chastised.

"But I didn't!" Lucifer interrupted. "I remembered the F-I-A-M-O rule! Forget it and move on. Even if the person is being an absolute douchebag." Lucifer propped his head up on his hands, a quirk he often did when he was overly proud of himself.

"Really? That's great buddy, I'm proud of you." Castiel gave him a warm smile in encouragement and checking off a list of notes in his file. The pair discussed his progress over the week, learning to say "bless you" when someone sneezed instead of screaming bloody murder. Irony would have it that about a half an hour into the session, Castiel would suddenly be overcome with the violent urge to sneeze.

_Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let them know. _Castiel repeated the phrase he had learned from some Disney movie a patient had forced him to watch in his head like a mantra.

He had it under control until Lucifer made some bad joke about healthcare and when he opened his mouth to laugh, he sneezed loudly instead. Not the cute, feminine kind of sneeze. It was the loud, obnoxious kind of sneeze that sent snot flying all over his patient.

Lucifer froze, mouth falling open in horror. And then the screaming started.

"BLOODY HELL, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! YOU HAVE CURSED ME!" The poor man ran about the room, smashing the glass panel that held Castiel's "emergency cleaner" and began dosing his face with bleach.

"Luce, forgive me, but I don't think that's a very good idea." He cautioned, stepping forward.

"Stay away from me!" Lucifer held his hand out in fear, the bottle of bleach splashing Castiel in the face. "YOU ARE THE SPAWN OF SATAN!" Lucifer cried, bursting out of his office and running like a mad man down the hallway.

Castiel sighed, wiping the cleaner off his face with a towel. At least he had the good sense to use the door this time.

"Dr. Novak?" The nurse named Meg popped her head in his office. "Did I hear someone sneeze?"

"I couldn't help it." Castiel grimaced, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"It's alright, we've all been there." She shuddered at a particularly cringe worthy memory. "I've just sent someone to take him home." Meg pulled out her clipboard, running a finger down the list. "In the meantime, why don't you prepare for you're next patient? Becky gave me Dean's file for you to look over." She handed him a rather sizable folder. "If I were you I would use your lunch break to prepare."

Castiel sighed sadly. "Thanks Meg, I'll get right on that."

* * *

An hour later, Castiel found himself at his favorite dinner, chowing down on coffee and pastries. The heavy packet sat on the table, reminding him of his new task. Castiel opened it reluctantly, pulling on his glasses. A note was pasted in bold along the top:

**Dear Dr. Novak,**

**My brother Dean suffers from a number of mental illnesses. Recently he's been arrested for a number of reasons that are listed briefly inside this file. Due to the severity of his offense, the state is considering throwing him in jail. I have however, through means I am not authorized to share with you, persuaded them to let him off on parole on the condition that he is to be guarded at all times and attends daily therapy. This task is designed to decide the severity of my brother's insanity. Your decision will determine whether he goes to jail, an insane asylum or will continue to live with me (which is preferred)**

**I have already arranged a meeting between us with your secretary. Please exercise extreme caution when dealing with Dean. He can be quite...unpredictable sometimes.**

**Good luck,**

**Sam Winchester**

Castiel's curiosity peaked and he flipped the page, eyes widening as he read.

**Patient: Dean Winchester**

**Age: 30**

**Presumed conditions: Narcissistic personality disorder, Schizophrenia, Psychopathy **

**Personality: Proud, sadistic, impetuous, vengeful, psychopathic, sociopathic, unhinged, unpredictable, untamed, homicidal, often prone to violent outbursts and destructive rampages**

**Assigned by the state while on parole. Arrested for destruction of property, third degree murder, impersonating an officer, theft and obstruction of justice**

Castiel closed the file and took another sip of his coffee. So _this _was the notorious Dean Winchester. That must have been why he recognized the name earlier. Dean was a particularly infamous serial killer: he popped up on the news at least once a year.

Supposedly his brother Sam was head of the FBI, which would explain why he had chosen him to be Dean's therapist. It wasn't uncommon for prosecutors to pay psychologists to twist the evidence in support of their case. Castiel was known to give his patients a fair assessment rather than partake in the politics of criminal psychology. He believed strongly in the concept of innocent until proven guilty.

Cas groaned, collecting his things. "Looks like I have my work cut out for me."

Thankfully, Meg had managed to clean up his office after Lucifer's outburst earlier, as Castiel did not have enough time to clean it by the time he returned to work. The moment he fell back into his chair, three knocks on the door signaled the arrival of his next patient.

Cas hurriedly fluffed up his hair and straightened his tie before the door opened, revealing several armed guards and the guest of honor: Mr. Dean Winchester.

* * *

**Note: The Adama Center is a fictional building. It will tie into the plot later on in the story.**


	2. Monsters

Castiel was well trained in the art of dealing with ex convicts, but Dean Winchester was a different story. Judging from his appearance, Dean was not a guy you would want to run into in a fight. From the dark leather jacket to the spiked rings on his fingers, everything about him screamed trouble. Dean winked his sinister green eyes at him as if to emphasize this fact.

A guard stepped forward, pulling Dean along with him and shoved him roughly into the chair across from Castiel before he handcuffed him to the desk. Dean flipped him the bird with his free hand, and Castiel dropped his face into his hands. _Fuck my life.__  
_

"Dr. Novak, I'm here to introduce you to Mr. Dean Winchester." The guard started, sounding bored. "He's an absolute asshole and a notorious troublemaker so just give us a call and we'll send someone in to detain him."

Castiel nodded and dismissed the troop, frowning when he realized one had stayed behind.

"I'm assigned to keep an eye on him so he doesn't cause you any harm." The man explained.

Castiel shook his head adamantly. "There's no need. I'm sure Dean will behave himself, won't you Dean?"

Dean looked Castiel up and down, carefully assessing every feature. "I will for you, Dr. Sexy." He winked his dark rimmed eyes suggestively and licked his lips.

Castiel did his best to compose himself and address the situation like a professional. He refused to fall under Dean Winchester's spell.

"He says he'll behave." Castiel called to the guard without looking up. "You may leave us now."

Dean waited until he heard the door close gave a low whistle. "Aren't you something" He flicked his cat like eyes back over to Castiel, kicking his feet up on the desk. "Alright shrink, you're stuck with me for an hour so can we just ignore the stupid speech and play Jenga or something?"

"You think you're funny?" Castiel asked simply.

Dean leaned as far forward as his chains allowed and ran a hand through his brightly colored hair. "I think I'm adorable."

Castiel stared distastefully at Dean's muddy combat boots kicked up on his desk but with held from commenting. Dean smirk grew wider as he noticed Castiel's discomfort.

"So you think that being arrested for murder is adorable?" Castiel asked, pulling on his reading glasses while flipping through his file.

Dean ignored his question and pulled at the cuffs that bound him to the chair. "Tell me Castiel Novak." Dean picked up the name block on his desk and ran his fingers over the smooth metal. "Does having a PhD in neurology mean you can tell what I'm thinking right now?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"It means I can make assumptions based on a patient's mental history. Other than that, no I am not a mind reader. Sorry to disappoint." Castiel flicked his eyes up to meet Dean's.

"Seriously I thought people who went to college were smart." Dean began making lewd gestures to emphasize his point. "No wonder this country has gone to shit."

Castiel frowned and scribbled down some notes in the margin.

**Enjoys pissing people off.**

"It says here that you were impersonating an officer, multiple cases of third degree murder-"

"Oh no, you've got it all wrong." Dean interrupted.

"Are you saying that you're innocent?" Castiel peeked over the bridge of his glasses, interested.

"Hell no! I didn't _accidentally_ murder those guys, I one hundred percent intended to gank their asses! Put me down for first degree murder, I should get credit for killing those sons' a bitches."

Castiel blinked in surprise and turned back to notes, crossing out third degree murder.

"Why would it have you listed as this if you so blatantly admit to the crime?"

Dean's face relaxed a little he slumped into his chair, comfortably. "My brother works for the government." He said simply. "He managed downgrade the conviction to third degree. Even though it's obviously NOT."

"You seem to be rather proud of killing those people, Dean." Cas noted mildly.

"Correction: Monsters. Not people." Dean insisted.

"Monsters." Castiel nodded. That was new. He must be a Supernatural fan. "Can you be more specific?" He asked, picking up the list of Dean's victims.

"Dick Roman." He read off the first name.

"Leviathan. Nasty little fucker." Dean said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Right." Cas gave him a strange look before reading on. "It says here you killed him with Windex."

"Followed by decapitation." Dean added smugly.

Cas chose to ignore the last comment and continued on down the list. "Azazel."

"Demon. Killed him with the Colt."

"Colt?"

"It's a gun that can kill anything." Dean explained.

"Gotcha." Cas rolled his eyes and read on. "Zachariah."

"The ghost of Christmas screw you." Dean answered suddenly looking very annoyed. "Angel. Stabbed him with his own blade."

"Ruby."

"Demon. Stabbed her with a demon knife." Dean frowned as he tapped his fingers on the desk. "She was my brother's old girlfriend. Total bitch."

"Amy Pond."

"Kitsune. Another one of my brother's old girlfriends. Also a bitch." He popped one of Castiel's candies in his mouth and continued. "Stabbed her in the heart."

"Dean, she had a _son_." Castiel leaned forward and looked into Dean's eyes, trying desperately to find a trace of humanity in them.

"He was a monster too, but I didn't kill him! I have a little something called _standards._" He emphasized the last word by putting them in air quotes.

Castiel shook his head vehemently. This man was clearly insane.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Dean asked suddenly.

"About what?" Castiel loosened his tie, anxious under Dean's questioning gaze.

"That those people I killed were really monsters."

"Monster's don't exist, Dean. The only monsters that truly exist are the people who murder without remorse." Cas gestured to the man sitting in front of him. "Which would include you, apparently."

Dean's eyes flashed furiously. "That right there is exactly the kind of bullshit response I should have expected from an uptight shrink like you. All you do is sit around on your ass all day and listen to a bunch of depressed people complain about their lives." He leaned forward, forcing Cas to look at him. "The truly messed up part is that you're just as fucked up as they are."

Cas bit back a witty retort and looked away. There was a few moments of awkward silence before it was broken by a series of knocks.

"Come in." He answered without looking up. Dean wheeled around in his chair and immediately his frown turned upside down.

"Hiya, Sammy!"


	3. Partners in crime

Sam Winchester was nothing like the man he expected him to be.

Castiel thought Dean was tall but compared to his brother, he was a midget. Characterized by long brown hair, hazel eyes and a strong jaw line, Sam seemed to radiate authority in a subtle kind of way.

Oblivious to his staring, Sam strode into the room and took the seat beside his brother before shaking hands with Castiel. "Dr. Novak." He nodded respectfully. "I've heard many great things about you."

Castiel gave him a small smile. "I can't promise that all of them are true but I appreciate the gesture anyhow."

Dean rolled his eyes and popped another few candies into his mouth. The younger Winchester gave him a disapproving look and swatted his feet off the desk. "Dean, get your feet off the table and stop eating all his candy." Sam snapped before throwing Castiel an apologetic glance.

Dean grinned widely, the chocolate from the candy spilling out of his mouth as he did so. "Ah, shit. I just bought this shirt." He frowned distastefully at the mess on his clothes before bending over and licking it off with his tongue.

Castiel wrinkled his nose, disgusted. Words would never be enough to describe the enigma that was Dean Winchester. Castiel had dealt with a lot of psychopaths in his time but none like Dean: the man was his own breed of weird. It was a unique kind of insanity.

Sam gave him a speculative look, almost as if he could tell what the he was thinking. "Please excuse my brother. He's kind of a slob."

"Duck you, Sam!" Dean countered, mouth still full of candy.

"Among other things..." Sam growled back before continuing. "My brother here is currently facing prosecutions from at least a dozen different parties. I was able to waver the death penalty but the court is still pushing for a life sentence."

"The court can suck my dick." Dean said as he reached for another mouthful of candies before Sam slapped his hand away, angrily.

"I don't understand." Castiel frowned in confusion. "Twelve sentences at once? What, did Dean just decide to go on a killing spree in the last month?"

"Dean had a partner in crime. He's been the one taking the heat for most of the killings." Sam spoke bitterly. "His body was found last week under a bridge in Malibu. The consensus is that he died of natural causes."

"Natural causes, my ass." Dean interrupted, earning another annoyed glare from Sam.

"Anyway," The younger Winchester turned back to Castiel. "Forensics showed that Benny's been dead for at least a month which means that the responsibility for all the recent killings would fall to Dean."

"That's ridiculous." Castiel argued. "Dean's obviously not the only psychopath in this country, so why was he charged with all the killings?"

"Simple." Sam said, slapping his hands on his knees. "He confessed."

Castiel raised his eyebrows questioningly at Dean who just smirked. "You confessed? Why would someone whose spent the last four years on the run, randomly decide to give it up and turn himself in? A move like that is awfully risky." He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You know if it hadn't been for your brother over there, you'd probably be dead right now."

"Trust me, I know." Dean folded his arms across his chest and winked at his brother who scowled. Castiel studied their interaction carefully, confusion forming a crease between his brows.

"Why _did_ you help him, Sam? He killed your girlfriend. _Twice._" Castiel asked simply.

Sam suddenly became extremely fascinated with the view outside, blatantly refusing to look at either of the other two men. "Well for one: Dean calls them my girlfriends but I had never dated either of them. Amy and Ruby were my friends, but we weren't close." The younger Winchester paused. "I'm not defending what he's done at all but you have to understand: Dean's my brother. And despite everything he's done...I would do anything to protect him."

Dean mockingly wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful."

"Shut up" Sam snapped back, although he was obviously trying to hide a smile.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Castiel dropped his head into his heads. Brothers or not, they were obviously a co-dependent pair: dysfunctional at best.

"Anyways..." Sam glanced up at the clock. "We have to wrap up our session here in a minute. I wanted to make sure to see you before the court hearing. The prosecutors want to throw Dean into an asylum but I would prefer to avoid that if at all possible. Regardless, your diagnosis will be the one to decide Dean's fate."

Castiel sighed sadly upon realizing what he was being asked to do. Again. "Sam, I know that you want to get Dean out of this but he killed _twelve people-" _

_"_Actually I've killed more like thirty." Dean interrupted, grinning widely. "Benny got blamed for most of those though."

Castiel ignored him and continued. "Look, even if I wanted to, there is no diagnosis I can administer that would give Dean a get out of jail free pass!"

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment before reaching down and clicking something that sounded an awful lot like a safety clip. Castiel froze once he realized what it was: The cold barrel of a gun pressed into his gut from under the desk.

"Not if we play our cards right."

Suddenly Sam Winchester didn't seem so friendly anymore.


	4. You're hired!

"Sam." Castiel spoke calmly, holding his hands up in surrender. "Think about what you're doing here."

Dean suddenly burst out laughing at his obvious discomfort before getting punched in the face by his brother. "Shut _up, _Dean."

"Ow." Dean bent his nose back into place. "Chill the fuck out, Sammy. That hurt."

"Might I remind you that we're trying to come off as intimidating here, Dean." Sam snapped back, letting out an irritated sigh before turning back to Castiel. "Forget about my idiot brother for a minute and listen very carefully. That's a .45 caliber pressed up against your heart. One step out of line and I will end you, we clear?" The younger Winchester threatened.

"Crystal." Castiel winced at the pain in his chest. Sam was putting a unnecessary amount of pressure on him and it hurt like a bitch. He gave him a suspicious look before pulling back to let the man breathe.

"What do you want from me?" Castiel wheezed. "I already told you, I can't help."

"So you say." Sam gazed out the window thoughtfully. "I however, have other ideas." Before either could react, Sam swiftly hit the doctor over the head with the barrel of his gun and he slumped over in his chair, unconscious.

* * *

Castiel awoke a few hours later in an unfamilar room. Pushing past the pounding pain in back up his skull, he lifted himself up out of the bed and took in his surroundings. Everything, from the square tile floor to the chamber like ceiling was bleached white. In the corner stood a very dapper looking Sam Winchester whose dark clothing stood out in the ivory chamber room.

Sam turned to Castiel upon hearing the latter grunt in pain.

"Well look who finally decided to rejoin the land of the living." He smirked, approaching the doctor with open arms.

"Where am I?" The doctor asked weakly. The last thing he remembered was being held at gunpoint in his own office and then BANG, he wakes up here.

"You are at the Winchester Estate in Malibu. I decided it would be easier to just abduct you now rather than let you go and have you sprouting all this nonsense about my brother and I." Sam explained casually. "Accusations are bad for business."

Castiel's eyes widened in horror and he stumbled over to the window, peering out cautiously. He was met with a most beautiful sight: sandy beaches and the rolling waves of the Pacific. "This isn't happening." He dropped down to his knees in defeat. "There's no way this is happening."

"It has been decided that Dean is going to need a full time babysitter." Sam continued as if he hadn't spoken. "So I hired you."

"What the absolute fuck?" Castiel sputtered. "This isn't a job, this is kidnapping! And who in their right mind would suggest something like this? Surely not any court I know!"

"Dr. Novak, I have the court under my thumb. That nonsense I was feeding you about influencing them with your diagnosis was BS. I just wanted to see how you'd react."

Castiel shook his head utterly bewildered. Clearly both of the brothers were insane. However...they _did_ have guns which means they would probably shoot him if he didn't comply. He decided to play along. "So you're saying that you've kidnapped me to look after your mental case of a brother? While you what? Further corrupt the government?"

"Bingo." Sam grinned, eyes twinkling dangerously. "Don't look so down, Novak. I'm sure you'll find it rather comfortable living here with us. The estate has access to anything and everything you could ever want. Just do your job right and I'll make sure it pays off."

Castiel stood stock still as he processed this information. He was completely serious. This man kidnapped him to play therapist for Dean Winchester of all people. _What kind of universal backstabbing shit-_

"You know what, fuck this! Fuck all of you!" Something in Castiel snapped then. All of the bitterness he had kept carefully bottled up finally boiled over and he lost it.

Sam watched wordlessly as he began to fall apart. "Fuck this shit-"

Angrily, he ripped the cords out of the wall and threw the nearest lamp across the room. "fucking underpaying job-"

The doctor drove his fist into the drywall, tearing it down effortlessly. "fucking taxes-"

He ripped apart a pair of expensive pillows and the room was immediately dusted in a fine layer of feathers. "and corporate assholes-"

Another crash. "fucking court system-"

Sam rolled his eyes as the room deteriorated around him. "FUCKING WINCHESTERS!"

By this point the chamber was covered in a fine layer of dust, feathers and broken glass.

"Are you done yet?"

Castiel's blue eyes flashed dangerously but he nodded anyway before collapsing into the other chair still intact after his little temper tantrum. Sam gave him a sympathetic look. "You know, it sounds to me like your life kind of sucked anyway. I'm giving you a way out. You should be thanking me."

He turned to leave.

"Dean is waiting for you on the third floor. Feel free to find your way there." His eyes sparkled with amusement. "It's not like you can leave the property anyways."

Castiel followed his gaze to the shock bracelet on his ankle and cringed. "Oh, _hell_ no."

* * *

**Hey everyone! Sorry if I kind of fell off the side of the Earth for a bit there. Here are some responses to some earlier reviews that I didn't get a chance to respond to:**

**Guest: THANK YOU SOOOOOOO MUCH, THAT REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME. *virtual hug***

**Tori: I am totally failing at this updating thing LOL.**

**Superwholock903: Top three fics! That makes me feel special *blushes* I'll try not to screw it up then :)**

**General shoutout to all you readers for following this story. It will be a long one :)**


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